


separately bottled stars

by aware



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Drug Use, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Female Jack, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-06-10 06:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6942688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aware/pseuds/aware
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>michael and gavin and ray and geoff and jack and ryan<br/>all part of the same constellation<br/>split apart and bottled up and away from each other</p><p>a selection of stories about sunshine, sadness and stars in the sky</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. sunshine machine

**i. michael**

 

new jersey. 

he sits outside a club, things in his head he can't reach, clouds swirling around like, god, he doesn't know. he can't concentrate. what did he take this time? music pounds from inside; he can feel it in his feet and his fingertips, drawing him in because this is a good beat and his ears fall in love with it. 

he stands up. and stumbles. and walks back into the club. it's loud and he jolts, not expecting it. the sober part of him wants to leave now. there's something cold creeping up his back and crawling around his neck, feeling it brush past his hair and reaching up at his face and its so  _loud_ here. beer seems like a good idea right now.

a girl comes up to him whilst he's swaying with his arms in the air on the dance floor. she's almost the same height as him and he can't really make out what colour her hair is in the flashing lights. she pulls him away and the cold starts grabbing at him but she's so beautiful and  _what is happening_ , he wants to shout but no one would hear, some bad remix pulsing against him. he's not scared because his rational thoughts ran away with his common sense as soon as he took whatever _that_ was. maybe he should pry her off his arm and go back to the crowds. nah, no, he was fine, she was pretty and he's drunk and high off something and this could be fun.

as soon as she pulls him out the back door of the club and shuts the door without touching it and he feels the presence of someone behind him he gets scared. he's only 20 and he doesn't want to get killed whilst high and stuck behind a shitty club somewhere in nj and why didn't he bring that knife he got one time. he lets her let go of him and he swallows hard. he should try to run or something but maybe he wants to get involved with this, he doesn't know, maybe a good fight or getting his ass handed to him would clear his head up a bit. 

he feel a knife press into the small of his back and he almost screams but that would mean they'd actually press it in and he just tries to keep his eyes from widening.  _fight back_ , his brain whispers to him, but he's stuck between a rock and a hard place really, isn't he. he feels the knife cut his shirt and  _fuck, he liked this one, why would you rip my shirt up like that_. the girl is staring at him with a small smile and the person - dude? lady? someone else? - is right behind him and holy  _fuck_ what is going on.

and then he hurts and there's something wet falling down from the tear in his shirt and  ** _fuck off_** , michael thinks,  _ **leave me alone**_. he's mad now, scowling as the girl is just smiling and jesus christ he's gonna have to fight  _again._ it's been so long since he's done this, he thinks, and the scowl disappears, because he wants this.

he snaps and sunshine appears.

* * *

 

it's golden and warm and he can feel it dripping through him and seeping out of his cuts and his head and his eyes and he is in love with this feeling. he's  _alive,_ and he wants this, he wants to fight and he wants this and  ** _holy shit does he love this_.  ** he sits in his room the morning after with bloodied and bruised knuckles, black and blue littering his body. his head is pounding and he shouldn't have taken whatever drug it was but he is  **glowing**. from the inside out and he is absorbing all the light in the apartment. the rift in his chest is filled with light and he knew he was fucked up but he didn't realise he could fix it with a few minutes of fighting.

 

he feels like he's going to explode. maybe he should explode. that could be good.

he goes to the gym and works out for the whole day, sunshine pouring out of him every second he's awake.

 

he runs from the cops too often, he thinks. he should be more careful. or more reckless, really stop trying to be the perfect citizen like his family wanted. he was angry and he's a sunshine machine. 

 

 ** _mogar_** , he whispers to his apartment one night. that was him, he realised. someone said that mogar was strong, and that he could be a  _star,_ and he smiled. he sleeps well that night, his aching muscles getting the rest they need. he wants to be a star. and he's gonna fight his way to the skies.

he's woken in the morning by a threat and he leaves the state.

 

* * *

san andreas.

los santos is nicer than he thought it would be. he didn't really know why he was here.

he left his apartment and he's poor and needs some cash so he can actually have a place to crash. he fights three nights in a row. the apartment he rents for the month is probably the worst place he's ever slept. the sunshine wants to hide now. he's not happy yet. the skies are waiting, and he needs to get there. he's late, isn't he?

there's a man watching him a lot in his next fight. he's older than him, and has longish blond hair and blue eyes. he bets a lot of money on him.

michael wins the fight for him. he didn't usually fight for anyone but the light inside him began to fly out of him in long tendrils and it hurt so much. he's gold and he's trying his best and he is so strong in this moment though he is in so much pain.

michael doesn't want to see the man again.

 

his first month in los santos is weird. he fights every other night and he hurts, but he has money, and he's safer here than in nj and maybe he's having fun? he hasn't decided yet. he only has the sunshine for company and he wonders if anyone else will ever see it. 

it's sunnier here. his freckles get darker. and he cuts his hair. maybe he'd get that tattoo soon. he was growing up, he was strong, but he wasn't a star yet. he should show the skies he's still trying, do something big.

he blows up a building and the burst of light that came out of him was amazing. he wanted that forever. still fighting in the nights, he made explosives in the day. people wanted him to demolish people's buildings and he didn't know why but he wanted to.

 

he meets a guy called ray at one fight. he bets on michael like the man did that other time, and michael has never fought as hard as he did for ray. 

ray is a cool guy, michael thinks. he likes fighting for him, because ray doesn't want to win big but because ray honestly thinks he can beat his opponent every time. it's refreshing. he feels  _alive_ the night he meets ray. so much light is around him. it's rushing through his veins and wishes it never stops.

ray's a criminal, he knows. he knows he kills a lot of people for his crew, he knows that ray could kill him. he doesn't care. ray's the best friend he's ever had.

* * *

the fake ah crew is big here. he doesn't know them, really, at least he doesn't think he does. 

he sees the man from a while ago at one of his fights. he bets ten grand on michael and doesn't even watch the fight.

michael is mad now. the gold is bronzing and it's red hot suddenly, burning through him and he almost kills the poor guy he's fighting. when he's done and everyone is gone, the man is still there.

his name is ryan and he feels dark. if michael's the sun, he's the moon. it's a strange feeling. he asks michael if he needs a job.

michael says no. for now.

 

he goes to a small bar one day with no goal in mind. his knuckles are so sore now. no amount of sunlight could heal them. there's a british guy at the bar. he's with a lady with blue hair and a lovely smile and michael's sunshine brightens. they're happy and he's happy for them.

the man's name is gavin and his girlfriend is called meg. meg buys him a beer and they talk. they exchange numbers. are they friends? michael doesn't know.

gavin calls him his boy and michael smiles inside. gavin is a strange person but he is a nice one. michael trusts both of them.

 

he fights again the night after meeting meg and gavin. he's still riding the new friend high and he fights for them. 

ryan is here again. he has friends with him, two others, one in a suit and one in a hawaiian shirt and shorts. he feels intimidated. they're geoff and jack, and michael declines the job offer again.

lindsay is with them the next time. she's beautiful, and she bets more money on him than ryan ever has. she is so bright. like liquid silver. they're white gold together. she's so beautiful and michael wants to cry.

 

he accepts the job offer.

 

 


	2. turn up your music, drown out the rain

**ii. ray**

 

ray feels empty. like his stomach and his fridge. he hurts and he can't sleep and he can't find a job, and he's fucked up. honestly, he can't remember the last time his life felt full and fun and he has no friends now. the roof of his building is so nice, he thinks. he sits up there looking down on his city - he doesn't own new york, just renting - and he just. stays there. he has nothing to do, no one to see, no one to disappoint. it's kinda... nice.

he doesn't know how long he sits alone on the roof of his apartment block. it's dark by the time he snaps out his daze and goes back to his place. 

he doesn't want this any more. he's so hungry. no one wants to hire him, a mentally ill dude who looks like he's twelve. who dropped out of college, who got fired from his last shit job at gamestop. 

7/11 is his stop. maybe he'll just swipe a sandwich or something. it's the only way he's gonna eat tonight.

* * *

he ends up robbing the store.

he doesn't know how, but he gets home with a carrier bag of cash, blood on his hands and a sandwich. he pays his rent that month and has one good meal a day. practically luxury. sometimes he hears about the robbery on the local news but he doesn't listen. the cops haven't come knocking yet so he's fine.

the next month, he does the same thing. and the month after that.

by this point he has  _spare money_. he could buy some clothes, or a new game, or something. he doesn't use it, but puts it in a pot his mom got him one time. next month, he'll have enough. that's if he doesn't get caught. 

 

he buys himself a hot pink sniper rifle.

* * *

he meets ryan at a gun range. he has a good aim and already ray can feel himself being drawn to him. he's like the ocean and ryan's the moon. ray has never shot a gun before, and ryan watches him as he loads his gun, intrigued. the store owner's words of advice and his guide on how to shoot bouncing around his skull. ray is nervous. he moves so he can see perfectly down the scope at the human shaped target at the end of the room. he relaxes a little, holds his breath, and revels in the silence his earmuffs give him.

he fires. 

he hits the middle of the targets forehead and he smiles a little. and he pulls the trigger. a little to the right this time. he corrects himself and fires three more shots. they land in a neat line, almost overlapping each other.

ray is shocked. and so is ryan. ray takes his earmuffs off as he sees ryan isn't shooting. he's staring straight at ray's target, mouth open slightly. he looks over to ray and smiles.

"wow. good aim! how long did it take you to perfect that?" ryan chuckles and ray feel his cheeks heat up.

"that was my first try actually! i just, uh, i literally just bought this gun." ryan's eyes are comically wide.

"holy shit."

 

they see each other nearly every week at the gun range. they never talk about anything of importance, only about guns and things they saw on tv. mostly, they shoot guns, and ryan lets ray use his large collection to get better. 

he's still 'way too good' with a sniper rifle. ryan jokingly says he should be a hitman.

* * *

ray becomes a hitman. and he has  _so much money._ he doesn't even have to rob stores any more. he's sort of happy. he has a friend and a well paying job.

ryan moves out of new york.

 

ray feels empty.

* * *

he knows that ryan doesn't stay in one place for once. he remembers ryan mentioning his adventures in london, moscow, canada - he found himself a little jealous. 

he has ryan's number, but he can't bring himself to call. he keeps killing people and he keeps making money in new york. he's lonely. but he'll find someone else.

ryan texts him.

 **Ryan:** Hey Ray! It's been a while - how are you?  
 **ray:** uh, cool, man. still killing for cash. you know how it is.  
 **Ryan:** Nice! Just realised I forgot to tell you where I was! Los Santos, San Andreas. It's on the west coast.   
 **ray:** oh, neat dude! i'll look it up, but isn't that the 'criminal capital of the world' or something  
 **Ryan:** It is. You should visit some time! I'm staying here for a long time, and I'd like to see how good your aim has gotten :P  
  
ray smiles. he'd love to see rye again. so he asks when the earliest he can visit is, and he books a one way flight for next week.

* * *

los santos is filled with people looking to hire a sniper, it seems. he stays with ryan for as long as he wants to, which is looking like forever. ryan works for the fake ah crew now, the biggest crew in the city. not even fakehaus could compete with them. it was strange. ray doesn't feel as empty as he used to. he thinks that's good.  
  
one day ryan says he wants him to come with him to work. ray is scared. geoff ramsey is the most terrifying person in the city, well, maybe after ryan himself. ray didn't know why ryan was a 'psychopath'. he couldn't see it. their base is a penthouse on integrity way and ray whistled. it's very expensive.

geoff is sitting at a table in his pyjamas when ray and ryan arrive. he smiles and finishes eating his cereal. 

"good morning ryan, ray." 

"geoff, it's two in the afternoon." ryan says, though he's smiling.

"doesn't matter. this is my house." he doesn't look like a crew leader. 

ray is confused, still. he doesn't know why he's here.

"so you're the kid with the perfect aim? huh, ryan will not stop talking about you." ryan goes pink. "do you need a job? or are you looking for a crew?" ray nods.

"wanna be a fake?" ray nods.

* * *

 

ryan's been going out to watch a fighter. ryan says he glows. ray doesn't believe him.

so he checks him out himself. 

his name is mogar and he is the brightest thing ray has ever seen. he's like the sun, and ray has never wanted to meet someone so badly in his life.

he is called michael and he is from new jersey. he likes to fight and he likes to explode things so the stars can see. ray understands somehow. they are all part of the earth. ray is the water, influenced by ryan, warmed by michael. it's the best feeling.

 

michael and ray are best friends. ray never wants to lose him. 

ryan says mogar is his opposite. ray agrees, but some part of him says if he loves them both they can't be all that different.

 

michael doesn't know what they do at night. they're murders, and he's just fire waiting to be put out by them, isn't he? he's so... pure. untainted. 

that's what keeps ray up at night.

* * *

 

he sits on ryan's balcony a lot with his headphones on. sometimes, the music is so loud he can't hear himself think. sometime's there's silence. 

it rains, and he sits, and he looks down. he's signed the contract and bought the city.


	3. there's too much time and blood on my hands

**iii. gavin**

 

oxfordshire.  
  
gavin free is sad. he just failed his english lit exam. his mother is not impressed, and his father hasn't said a word. he can retake it, he told them. it's fine, he said. the weight of the pressure they put on his shoulders is crushing him slowly.  
  
he doesn't think they forgive him. it was only an exam, he thinks. one exam. he did 13 in total and he passed all the others! why are they mad? he doesn't understand. he never quite understands and he's so sad here. they never notice because he hides so well. he learns to lie now. to please them. they're not awful parents but god could they make him nervous. they looked down on him, didn't they?   
  
they're only small lies, really. it's "no I didn't buy that from waitrose, yes I did get a good mark on my paper, of course I didn't get that new video game, I spent the money on books". it's so easy. so easy.  
  
and they believe him every time. they always believe him. this is so simple, so easy, worth it.  
  
he starts to test it. his white lies aren't so harmless. they're "i didn't steal that, are you insane, of course i still go to school, dan's phone is broken so you can't ring him to check".  
  
he coded the entirety of the school website to say he was still there. this was so easy.  
  
he has too much time on his hands. 

how can he waste it?

* * *

  
he steals his parents bank details and runs off to america, promises and consoles left to dan and his cat. he doesn't know what he's doing. he lies his way to los santos. he lies his way to the other side of the world.  
  
god, what is he doing?  
  
he steals food from the airport store. no one sees. when did he get so good? when did he become so... crooked? he sits in a coffee shop for most of the first day. he pickpockets a lot, a few wallets and watches. he is tired, though. a man comes in and he has an expensive looking watch. he orders a drink and gavin slinks up behind him. to anyone untrained they wouldn't see a thing.  
  
as soon as his hand gets near to the watch, the man's hand clamps onto his wrist. gavin doesn't look at him. he is scared. he has never been caught.  
  
the man smiles. he is _terrifying_. gavin has made a mistake. they get their coffees at the same time. the man looks at gavin. he's not getting out of this one easily.  
  
he is... a very slimy man, gavin thinks. like a politician. he's tied up on a chair in a warehouse. the man has a name but gavin doesn't care about that, not when there's a gun to his head.  
  


now, how can he get out of this?

he's gavin free! he can get out of anything! that's what his classmates used to say.   
  
this man never went to scouts, obviously. he can't tie knots well at all. gavin's hands are already free. he is a good actor. he hides it.  
  
gavin kills him.  
  
he is stony faced, so cold and biting when he leaves the warehouse. it's like a hurricane passed through. there is no one left. and he is the terrifying one.  
  
he has blood on his hands, and it feels so good.

  
  
he likes this life. he steals to get by and kills to get out. he is gavin free, the famous sneaky bastard. he is okay here. no one is out to get him, because they're all dead. he has a list as long as the vagabond and that's saying something.  
  
the vagabond himself, however, is not a fan of what the wind blew in from britain.  
  
they don't get along. gavin steals his phone, takes a selfie and puts it back before he notices anything has happened. and the vagabond is so mad. because this skinny prick is the one geoff is so worried about? the one geoff wants for the crew? the "valuable asset"? the only thing valuable about him is his sunglasses.  
  
god, him and michael would get along well. the sun and the wind.  
  
  
gavin free, infamous sneaky bastard, half of team nice dynamite, member of the fake's. that's what the news says about him after the first heist. well, they don't call him a bastard. they call him a thief.  
  
gavin free, established criminal, wanted for murder, theft and a whole lot more. member of the fake ah crew. do not approach. that's after the tenth heist.  
  
he fits in here. the sun, the moon, the ocean, the wind, the rain and the stars.  
  
there's more. there's meg, and dan, and his school friends. there's lindsay, and jon, and jeremy and matt. there's so much more. he just can't find the words.  
  


he fits, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short and im sorry i dont really like this one


	4. i'm sorry, can you help me?

**iv. ryan**

 

köln, germany.

 

"je suis désolé, pourriez-vous m'aider?" the person he speaks to shakes his head and keeps moving. ryan doesn't quite know what language he's speaking, really. or what language he thinks in. it blurred into one at some point and it just comes out in a jumble of words. he's probably scaring everyone he talks to. he's a tall guy in ripped jeans and a black tank top, messy blond hair and startling blue eyes, spewing out languages like it's no tomorrow.

he tries again.

"es tut mir Leid," he almost sounds distressed. "kannst du mir helfen?" the response he gets is a little more positive, so this could be the right language.

he really doesn't know where he is.

 

the hotel room is small. he doesn't like it. he doesn't like it, he needs to know where he is. when did he forget this city?

"où suis-je," he mutters, "je suis perdu." his room service menu is in german, he recognises vaguely. is he speaking french?  
  
  


He meets a woman named jack the next day. he's met her before but he doesn't remember when. he doesn't remember what happened. he greets her in french and repeats his plea.

she replies in french.

"parlez-vous anglais?" does he speak english? yes, he can. but he doesn't know if he can form the words.

"ja, ich kann."

jack looks at him. new language, then. he thinks it's german.

"my name is jack. what is yours?" he  _knows_ her. she has to recognise him. she is very patient whilst he searches his brain.

"ryan." he can say that, at least.

"where are you from, ryan?"

"ich weiß es nicht." she nods.

"why do you need my help?"

"je fais la course  à pied et je suis perdu." again, she nods.

"are you sure you can speak english?"

"yes," he says now. "i can. am i? i don't know." he just talks now. he is lost.

"yes, ryan. you're speaking english."

 

jack takes him home. of course she knew him. she always has. jack was looking for him, kept her emotions hidden so ryan didn't freak out when he 'met her again'. 

she looks after him.

the flight back home is strange. ryan slips into french and can't click out of it. when they land, he speaks german. jack worries.

he's part of their crew, and they need him.

not that ryan remembers that. it's been so long, so long since they took him.

 

he speaks russian, maybe, for his first week. jack can't quite tell what it is. he sits on his bed, staring at the wall and muttering. its happened before, jack says to herself. it'll be fine.

 

* * *

 

 

by the time ryan's watching the golden boy at his fights he's been in los santos for four years. he is 31 years old. he lives with ray. he spent three years in germany because he didn't want to remember.

he slips into french when he's nervous and german when he's overwhelmed. a lot of the time, he says nothing at all.

he won't ever say what happened to ray in english. he does it in french. ray doesn't look it up online because he knows ryan trusts him not to.

 

he loves ray a little. he tells him in german. 

"je t'aime is overused," he says when jack questions him on it. "he's more likely to notice it." they smile.

"why don't you want him to?" she says. 

he thinks bout that for days and doesn't say a word of english.

 

he doesn't do a lot of jobs. he won't, not until 'ray and michael make better friends.' that's what he tells them. it makes ray smile and michael glow so he keeps saying it. he's not so crucial to their team build, he realises. it's late at night and ray is asleep. he goes out onto their small balcony and he sits with a notebook and writes out everything that happened to him. 

he writes in english first, german second and french third. he stares at the stars for a long time.

ray once told him that los santos is the place he bought from the landlord. he understands. he doesn't feel the same, but he understands. he doesn't feel like he owns everywhere. it's more like he's changing things and moving on. like the moon, maybe.

he puts the writing in some envelopes. the french version is addressed to jack and the german one is to keep.

you never know, he might forget it again.

the english version is for ray. he puts it on his bedside table next to his glasses.

 

he spends the rest of his night writing. dutch, spanish and swedish first. then portuguese and italian. romanian and greek. 

 

he writes in russian last. he almost can't do it.

he keeps russia in his notebook.

 

writing another english version for michael, maybe gavin too, he thinks about what language to write to geoff in. he decides to let jack translate the french. he doesn't know a lot about geoff.

geoff doesn't talk to him a lot. he looks very pained when he does.

 

* * *

ray cries when he reads it. ryan lets himself be hugged, hard, and ray looks around at all the papers in their living room. he stares and it starts to concern ryan.

"you know all these languages?"

ryan nods.

"that's incredible."

ryan flinches. ray's eyes go wide and ryan shakes his head. he doesn't want apologies yet.

"i needed to learn them."

"i know, rye. i know."

 

he makes breakfast and talks in french to himself.

"tell me about the languages. why do you speak only french and german? why not swedish or something?" ryan puts his fork down.   


"je ne sais pas," he says honestly. "i can't speak them as well anymore." 

ray nods.

they finish eating.

 

ryan was lost. he doesn't recall the interaction with jack in köln but he remembers the feeling. it's like right now. he's found something again.

 

he realises later that he thinks in russian. he always will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations for anyone interested! i also want to let you know that these may not be accurate, im not fluent in either of these. thanks to mari for help with the french!  
> Köln is Cologne  
> “je suis désolé, pourriez-vous m'aider?” Sorry, can you help me? [French]  
> “Es tut mir Leid, kannst du mir helfen?” Sorry can you help me? [German]  
> “où suis-je? Je suis perdu.” Where am I? I am lost. [French]  
> “Parlez-vous anglais?” Do you speak English? [French]  
> “Ich weiß es nicht.” I don’t know. [German]  
> “Je fais la course à pied et je suis perdu.” I am running and I am lost. [French]  
> "Je ne sais pas.” I don’t know. [French]


End file.
